Of Werecats and Dragons
by Commentaholic n Dragonrider101
Summary: Whenever evil arises, heroes are called to rescue the world from its dark influence. Now, two humans are drawn from Earth and into Alagaësia to assist in the conflict there. Little do they know that there is another, greater power at work in Alagaësia.
1. Prologue: Legends and Prophecies

**Of Werecats and Dragons**

By Commentaholic and DragonRider101

**A/N:**

**Commentaholic: Well, here's the first chapter of our collaboration story, everyone. I wrote this prologue, but the rest of the chapters will likely contain content written by both of us. I just had the perfect idea on how to start the story, so I just had to have this first slot. Anyway... any thoughts, dragonrider?**

**Dragonrider101: *looks down* nope.**

**Commentaholic: Really? Nothing whatsoever? *looks at the readers* This little back-and-forth will be going out to the public, you know!**

**Dragonrider101: *walks out of the room***

**Commentaholic: Get back here! *chases after him***

**Dragonrider101: *walks back in* Good, he chased the wrong person. Now, the only thoughts I have on us working together are that we seem to agree a lot, and that he is the better writer. *gets tackled by an angry dragon* Here's the prologue!**

**Commentaholic: *walking back in* Wait, aren't we forgetting something? Oh, yeah. *adopts a professional tone* Neither Dragonrider101 or Commentaholic own anything in the Inheritance Cycle or any references we might make. The original characters belong to us, as do the changes to the plot line that might arise during the chronicles of the adventures of said characters. The world of Alagaësia and the pre-existing characters that reside within said land belong to Christopher Paolini. *looks over at dragonrider101* Need any help with that dragon?**

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**Prolo****g****ue**: _Legends and Prophecies_

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The cold wind blew past the thin-paned window of the building. Winter had come early this year, and so almost everyone in town was huddled around the communal fireplace in Quimby's tavern. Within the stone hearth of the round fireplace standing in the center of the room, dull embers burned in the darkness, sparking up a shower of flames as a new log was placed upon them. A hooded and cloaked man beside the hearth's eyes flashed with the new light, which lit up his aged, worn features. His eyes showed the weariness of countless battles and trials, and his face bore a few small scars that ran all the way down until they were obscured by the trimmed beard that he bore on his chin. The hooded man wore a cloak draped over his back that was tattered at the edges, speaking of hard and laborious travel.

A raucous babble of talk disturbed the calm isolation of the old traveler as a drunken man, a mere youth of twenty years stumbled over from the nearest table.

"Come on, old man." the man said, slurring drunkenly, "Give us a tale." He reached out and pulled back the old man's hood, revealing black hair, tinged with the gray of age. He often received remarks that he looked younger than he was. To the public, he just attributed this to healthy living, but few would know of his true methods.

"Garrow, show the man some respect." a young man named Horst scolded. He was obviously the more responsible drinker of the pair, for his mug of ale was only half empty, while Garrow's side of the table sported 3 empty tankards. The brawny form of Horst attempted to pull his friend back to the table, but Brom the storyteller laid a calming hand on Horst's insistent arms.

"It's quite alright, my friend. If young lads like you desire a story to pass the time during this cold winter's night, who am I to deny them?"

Brom had only recently arrived in the northern town of Carvahall, which was nestled among the ridges of the Spine that ran along the western edge of the Empire's holdings in Alagaësia. The small village had so far eluded much Imperial scrutiny, mostly do to its insignificance in comparison to the larger towns closer to the Empire's central city of Uru'baen. As such, the Empire's soldiers only rarely visited Carvahall, and even then, only during times of war, which hadn't occurred in the last hundred years since the last great conflict that destroyed many homes in the main cities of the Empire. Not many were still alive from that time that were left to recount the tale of those dark days, but the fear of such a thing happening again was burned into the genetic memories of the following generations.

Brom reclined in his chair, stroking his chin, deep in thought. It had to be a good story, one filled with hope to raise their spirits on this cold, dark, and lonely night. He snapped his fingers. _Perfect._

He stood and faced the two young men, holding his arms wide in the traditional storyteller pose. "We all know about heroes of old, do we not?" He paused as he turned his gaze to the assembled people. Due to boredom, the majority of the room's population had turned towards the center of the room where Brom was standing. It wasn't often that they heard a story that they hadn't heard dozens of times before. As Brom had only recently come to the small village, his stories were likely new and a refreshing change. A few people nodded in response to his question. Of course they had heard about heroes that had risen throughout the years.

Brom continued, "As we know, it is the cycle of the world, nay, the universe, that a dark force, and evil, arises every hundred years or so. It is also just as inevitable that its opponent, an advocate or advocates of good, called from their previously unknown lives, will rise to meet the oppressive forces of evil. Evil comes in many shapes, whether it is a misunderstanding that sparks war, or a malicious being bent on the destruction of the peace we all share."

Brom closed his eyes for a moment. "Such a war was Du Fyrn Skulblaka. It may have been purely by chance that an elf, one of the fair folk, slew a dragon, or perhaps it was a misunderstanding or dark intent, we as mortals shall never know, but it sparked a war that will forever be burned into our racial memories, even if the world forgets it in its histories. The war between dragons and the world of elves and men was intense. Imagine: Dragons the size of mountains casting down towering spires of our cities, fire burning entire villages to the ground. The war turned into hell. It cost many lives and properties before it was ended by the legendary Elven hero, Eragon. This elf found a dragon egg, which hatched while it was in his possession. He raised it and they grew close together, and together they became ambassadors between the warring factions. His efforts saved the world from annihilation. The Dragon Riders, an order that arose from this alliance between elves and dragons, reigned as peacekeepers for many centuries. War became a thing that dwelt in distant memories of the elves, and it was forgotten by men entirely. The occasional uprising or quarrel arose, but was quickly brought to heel by the vigilant Dragon Riders."

Brom's face became a look of sorrow, prompting some of the listeners to do the same in sympathy, "But it not to last. It was not long before a young, rebellious rider named Galbatorix rose up in rebellion. After losing his own dragon in a battle begun by his own foolish actions, he wandered around in the wilderness, filled with the madness of half of his mind departing from him, for a Rider without his dragon is only half a man. Young Galbatorix was found unconscious by a farmer, and the Riders were summoned. After he recovered, he requested another dragon, but the Rider Council refused. He was not worthy to be trusted with another dragon. In his rage, he departed, but not before finding a sympathetic rider, one named Morzan, who would become the first of his Forsworn followers.

"A few years later, Galbatorix and Morzan returned from their exile, recruited or seduced a few more Riders to their cause by way of their dark magics, and assaulted the Dragon Rider Order. Caught unawares, the Riders fell quickly, until the last Rider, the Leader of the Riders, Vrael, was all that was left. And in the end, Galbatorix, using underhanded tricks and tactics, slew Vrael, thus ending the Era of Order, and beginning his dark reign. And so it continues to this day. The Elves withdrew into their secret havens, as did the Dwarves, never to be seen to this day. As for the large numbers of wild dragons, nobody knows what became of them. A few days after Vrael's fall, as Galbatorix was about to turn his gaze to the unyielding dragon race, they vanished from Alagaësia."

Brom's eye twinkled, though, despite the somber tone of the tale, "But it is not lost. There still remains to be a hero of this age, one destined to rise up and end the evil that has engulfed our land. It may not be in our time, or our sons' time, but it is inevitable for a person, or persons, to rise up and quell the darkness, ushering in a new era of light and peace." Brom lowered himself into his seat, leaving the rest of the room in silence. The audience was at a loss for words. There wasn't a single person in the room that had not felt a deep impact from the story. But one of them was particularly influenced, and this influence was the one that mattered.

This person sat beside her brother, Garrow. It was a young woman named Selena. _Eragon... I like that name._

But little did the people of Carvahall know that the destined hero would arrive sooner than they expected, and with the help of two others, he would change the history of Alagaësia forever.

_Five Years Later_

Garrow watched as the man and his sister departed on horseback through Carvahall's main gate. He was sad to see her go, as many of Carvahall's residents chose to live out their lives in the small village. A few chose to leave, but they were few and far between. The handsome man had come into the town out of nowhere, sweeping Selena off of her feet. She had been lovestruck by the strong man, and they had left to get married and live together.

To be honest, people had almost seen this coming. Selena had never been one to settle down quietly. She had often been seen journeying into the foothills of the Spine, almost as if daring the creatures hidden in those hills to attack. She always had been one for adventure and excitement, and Carvahall... just wasn't capable of providing that. All this was beside the fact that she was strikingly beautiful. It was often said that there was no possible way that she was related to Garrow, or anyone in the village for that matter. Selena had the grace and beauty of the women of the high court, or so it was said. None of the people in town had ever been to Uru'baen, so there wasn't really anyone to compare it against.

But as such, it wasn't surprising when the handsome warrior had come into town, immediately spotted Selena, and had set about wooing her with promises of a better life. He promised her estates, comfort, luxury. Pretty much anything that a woman could want. Then again, Selena wasn't an ordinary woman. She was aloof and feigning ignorance to his obvious advances until he mentioned his villa in the mountains. Once he mentioned that, she began to get interested, and even returned a few of his displays of affection.

Some of Carvahall's women claimed that it was too quick of a decision on her part, but, as the strong-headed woman that she was, she refused to accept that she wasn't in control of her fate. She would do things when she wanted to, and if she wanted to. To use her words, "No damned custom is going to prevent me from living my life."

And such was the way that Selena came to depart from Carvahall. Garrow was sad to see her go, but also happy that she had managed to find a life other than the quiet, calm life that she resented.

Garrow turned away from the gate as Selena and the man disappeared down the road. Marian was waiting at home, and supper wouldn't stay warm forever.

_Seven Years Later_

Night had fallen over Carvahall after a long, hot day. Summer had come to the small village late this year. Garrow was calmly relaxing in his chair by the fire, enjoying a good book. At first, he hadn't been much for learning how to read, but Marian had been quite a driving force. Marian had always had a healthy love of knowledge and ways of procuring it. As such, she was an avid reader. Garrow sighed as he glanced over at his wife, who sat in the chair opposite him, enjoying a book of her own.

An uneven rapping sound came at the door of Garrow's house, waking Roran, who had until now been sleeping peacefully in his cradle. It had been two years since Garrow and Marian had been blessed with a baby boy, and they were happy. The harvest was plentiful, the weather was pleasant most of the time, and everything was calm in Carvahall. Garrow grumbled as he rose from his chair by the fireplace. _Who could possibly be calling at this hour? _he thought.

He opened the door a few inches so that he could peek out of the crack. The person standing on the doorstep was the one that Garrow had least expected.

Selena, his sister that had left Carvahall all those years ago, swayed wearily on the doorstep, hair disheveled, the loose strands sticking out from the ornate circlet of pearls that adorned her head. Her abdomen was swollen with the bulge of pregnancy, a pregnancy that appeared overdue. "Garrow..." she said weakly, as she fell forward. Garrow managed to catch her before she hit the ground.

Garrow hollered back into the house, "Marian! Fetch Gertrude, quick! Selena needs help!" Marian swooped past Garrow and headed down the hill and into town to fetch the midwife. Garrow carried his sister inside and onto his bed. "Don't worry, Selena," Garrow said soothingly, "Gertrude will be here soon." Selena nodded weakly, sweat pouring off of her brow.

After about ten minutes, most of which Garrow spent glancing out the window to see if Marian and Gertrude had arrived yet, the two women came through the door. Gertrude immediately went over to Selena's side, while Marian stood by Garrow. The healer performed her examination of Selena. Her face was grim as she turned to Garrow.

"We need to get that child out now, or she won't make it. She's been resisting the birth, and that can be damaging. I don't know why she's done this, but it doesn't really matter right now. Fetch me some hot water and a clean sheet." Garrow and Marian scrambled around to meet the midwife's demands. The next hour was chaos as they were ordered to go here, hold this candle, hold that bucket, keep her awake, PUSH!"

A wailing cry pierced the air. Gertrude cut the cord of the newborn infant, holding him in her arms for a moment, "Congratulations, Selena, it's a boy." She handed the child to his mother. Selena's eyes wept with joy as she gazed down at her son. If Garrow didn't know her better, though, he wouldn't have caught the brief look of sorrow that flashed across her eyes before vanishing again amid the tears.

"Hello, my Eragon..." she crooned, stroking the baby's head as she lay there, obviously exhausted from the ordeal. Gertrude herded them out of the room to give Selena some time alone. Marian, holding Roran, and Garrow sat by the fireplace together as Gertrude periodically went back into Selena's room to check in on her. Gertrude was just about to go back in again when Selena appeared in the entrance to the room, fully clothed, and holding Eragon.

"Selena, what are you doing? You shouldn't be out of bed in your condition!" Gertrude scolded.

"I'm sorry Gertrude, but I cannot stay." Selena turned to Garrow, "Brother, I must ask you to take care of Eragon for me."

Garrow was dumbstruck, "What are you saying? Aren't you going to take him with you? Or at least stay in town for a bit while you recover?"

Selena shook her head, "I cannot. If I linger here much longer, they will find me. And I don't want Eragon to get caught up in all this. Please, Garrow," her voice quivered in a longing tone, "Raise him well." She pressed the blanketed bundle into her brother's arms and made for the door. She stumbled a few times before reaching it and opening it, disappearing into the night. Gertrude made to follow her, but Garrow grabbed her arm.

"Peace, Gertrude. If I know my sister at all, she has a good reason for doing this. She'll be fine." He looked down at the bundle in his arms. "Hello, Eragon." _Strange name, though. _He gazed out the window into the dark night, the sky studded with stars. A single comet flashed across the sky, its tail burning a bright blue before it vanished into the dark of the celestial void.

Little did Garrow know that this was the last time he would see his sister alive.

_Meanwhile..._

Among the towering peaks of Du Fells Nángoröth, a single torch flickered in an archway. Ancient eyes gazed up at the blue-tailed comet as it briefly streaked across the sky. _It is time,_ the old man thought. The robed figure turned and proceeded into the mountain passageway, following the stone corridors through the labyrinth of rooms, before finally finding the hall that he sought.

He raised his torch high, allowing the firelight to illuminate the carvings upon the aged sandstone wall. Every other wall in this room was empty, their engravings erased by magic to prevent their secrets falling into the wrong hands. Most of those prophesies had either come true or been thwarted. This prophesy was ancient, probably older than the Riders themselves. No one knew who wrote it, and only this man knew where it was. A comet hung suspended over the land, two figures beneath it: a werecat and a dragon.

_"_So it begins," the man murmured. He chanted a short spell, and the engravings crumbled into dust and fell to the ground. He strode out of the archives, and down the mountain to the village of his people that lived nearby. Entering the main structure in the town, a roughly-hewn cathedral that stood half-ingrained into a low mountain peak that sloped into the confines of the town, the man pulled on a rope by the door.

Once he had done so, the echoing tolling of a large bell that hung in the cathedral's tower rang through the stone halls of the building. Almost immediately, a group of about a dozen robed and hooded men appeared out of various parts of the building, converging on the man who had just entered. They knelt before him, and one of them spoke, "Master, you have returned early from your meditation. Have you received a vision?"

The one that the newcomers had referred to as "master" nodded. "A sign has been witnessed, a prophesy realized. By the next time the sacred blue-tailed comet, Fal'kiv'eurr, arrives, the ritual must be prepared.

The disciple that had spoken before spoke again, "Master, which ritual are you referring to?" The confusion was understandable. In such a society as theirs, the rituals performed were numbered among the hundreds.

The "Master" spoke again, this time with finality, "It is one that was forbidden many years ago, locked away to prevent its power from reaching the forces of evil. But it must now be referred to for the last time. Bring forth the Ancient Scroll of Kuthian the Sage."

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**A/N: **

**Commentaholic: Well... it's done. What do you think? I hope I kindled your curiosity. And what's your opinion, dragonrider?**

***no reply***

**Commentaholic: Well, since he's not responding to my emails, I'll just put this out and hope for the best. *giggles* I don't think I've been this proud of a chapter for quite a while. Anyway, Read and Review! **


	2. Chapter One: Things are about to change

**************Of Werecats and Dragons**

By Dragonrider101 and Commentaholic

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**A/N:**

**Dragonrider101: What do you think of us being in a collaborative story, Commentaholic?**

**Commentaholic: Well... it's definitely a change from how I usually write. Although it seems like I usually write on my own, I sometimes bounce ideas off of my dad, though not as much, recently. There is an awesome thing about a collaboration, though. Want to know what it is?**

**Dragonrider101: Sure, what is it?**

**Commentaholic: It's the communication. I haven't sent/received this many messages in a day for AGES. We're averaging about 16 messages a day back and forth, that's 16 for EACH of us. I don't usually receive that many! Also the close working with a person on a single project is just awesome. I, for one, am looking forward to seeing how the chapter that we wrote is received. Anyway, let's get this chapter started, unless you have anything to add?**

Dragonrider101: Yeah, watch out for angry dragons. *looks around* *runs away*

Commentaholic: Oh boy... *chases after him again* This is going to be a regular thing, isn't it?

Dragonrider101: Only if I don't do something about him! *points at an angry male dragon*

Commentaholic: *Points off-screen* Look! It's Saphira! *male dragon looks* RUN!

Dragonrider101: *while running* That's what I did! Wait, we forgot something... oh, yeah! Dragonrider101 and Commentaholic do not own the Inheritence Cycle or any events, characters, or things inside the IC. The only person who will ever own the IC is Christopher Paolini. The only things we own are ourselves, our OCs, and the made-up events in this story.

Commentaholic: *out of breath as he runs beside Dragonrider101* Is now really the time for that? *trips* Aaaahhhh. *gets pinned by angry dragon* Start the story quick! He can't attack us if we're not here!

**Dragonrider101: Here's the Chapter *pulls dragon off Commentaholic without effort***

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Chapter One:

**************************************_Things are about to change._**

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_Fifteen Years after Eragon's Birth_:

"Happy Birthday, Eragon." Garrow said, laughing merrily. He and Roran had put on a surprise celebration for Eragon's fifteenth birthday. It was quite an achievement, considering how small Carvahall was and that rumors and secrets spread like wildfire. Luckily, they had managed it with a little help from Katrina, the daughter of the town butcher, Sloan. She was a girl liked by most in town, and as such, could convince them to keep their mouths shut. Eragon seemed legitimately surprised to see his family and friends standing around a table as he came in from hunting, a deer slung across his back. But then again, who would be expecting a party with winter knocking at the door. Cold had swept across the land, casting the northern realms in snow, Carvahall and the Spine included. While winter had not yet struck in full force, the late fall was almost as vicious as the full-fledged winter. As such, Eragon had been working harder than usual to keep his small family of three fed, Garrow's wife Marian having died a few years before. The family had moved into the small house outside of town, where they maintained a farm during the months of spring and fall, and depending on the meat of the sparse wildlife during fall and winter, scraping by until spring came again.

Despite Eragon's weariness and the late hour, everyone present enjoyed the ensuing festivities. The evening culminated in Katrina presenting a pie that she had baked for the occasion. Eragon received the first slice, as was customary, and he took a bite. Everyone held their breath. It wasn't that Katrina was a bad cook. Far from it. It was that she had needed to guess what filling to use. Not many in town knew that much about Eragon, mainly because he was often wandering in the Spine. After a few moments of consideration, he swallowed and broke into a broad grin. "Nargon berries! My favorite!" and he dug into the pie with eagerness. The rest of the crowd laughed at his reaction and also took part in the dessert.

Amid the party's festivities, no one noticed the impossible event occuring in the night sky outside. A bright, blue-tailed comet, appearing for the first time in fifteen years, suddenly plummeted from the sky, arching towards the mountains far to the east of the land of Alagaësia.

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"Hold it, my brethren, HOLD IT!" the Master bellowed as he shielded his eyes from the fierce light of the comet. The comet itself thrashed about, almost as a living thing, within the ring of robed figures assembled on the circular pedestal. The "Master's" underlings swayed with the effort that it took to magically contain such an object. The only reason that it was even possible was the sheer amount of preparation they had done.

The comet itself had impacted amid their circle, as they had planned, once they had spoken the words of the spell that tore it from the heavens above.

The Master opened an ancient scroll, holding it before him as he approached the outer reaches of the magicians' circle, crossing over the magical sigils that contained the heat, which now washed over him, almost burning him alive. It would have, if not for the wards put in place over the magicians. He ducked as a fiery blue trail swiped at him, causing it to pass harmlessly overhead.

_"Un du evarínya ono varda, _Fal'kiv'eurr. It is written thusly. But no longer. Now you must fulfill your oath that you made to Kuthian all those eons ago." the Master said as he spoke to the comet, which almost seemed to turn to him as he spoke. He returned his gaze down to the scroll, searching for the line of script that would complete their ritual. He skimmed the titles of each spell, seeking the one marked _Domia abr Fal'kiv'eurr._ Upon locating it, he spoke the spell aloud, infusing each word with the magic required to accomplish their meaning. The strength of every person present was linked to the Master, should his strength prove not enough, and the strength of the crowd of magicians standing behind him. Each one was prepared to give their strength for it to succeed.

_"Aí varden abr du solus! Losna onr helgr vanyalí un gath du finiarels frá du evarínyas!" _

The Master felt a massive wave of energy depart from his body as the spell completed. A score of the magicians behind him crumpled to the ground as the comet reared from within the circle. He grimaced at their deaths, but they had known the risks. The comet thrashed about, its surface warping between numerous shapes as it bulged. It cracked open and a being composed entirely of light emerged, streaking skyward at such a speed that nobody could glimpse its shape clearly. The being pierced the veil of clouds that had collected during the ritual, disappearing into the darkness above. Then, when the ones watching thought it over, two streaks of light shot along the clouds in opposite directions, drawing a blinding line across the sight of the magicians as the shapes disappeared from the world as they knew it.

Across the land of Alagaësia, certain individuals felt a disturbance in the fabric of reality. One, an ancient being, long idle and tired of war, raised his head from the cushioned bowl in which he rested, gold-hued eyes tracking the light overhead. Two others, members of a dying and rare race, each great distances from each other, rose from their beds and watched a light pass across the sky at great speed.

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Kris was just sitting in his room, which was a mess: clothes, weapons, and _potential_ weapons everywhere. He was sitting on one of the two only clean spots in his room, his bed, sharpening his crudely made sword. The other clean spot in his room is a computer desk, on which sat his small grandfather clock. It was dark outside and inside, except for a small desk lamp, and no sounds besides his file running over his sword and the _tick-tick_ of the grandfather clock were present. He was startled out of his focus on filing when something fell in his closet, which was by the computer desk.

Kris listened for a second before getting up and checking to see what fell. It turned out to be Kris's skis falling, so he just shrugged and walked back to his bed, when a bright light flashed and pain filled his veins. The pain felt like he was being plunged into a vat of flesh-dissolving acid while being injected with said acid. He screamed, but no sound came out. He started to blackout, and before he did, he heard a mysterious voice say, _"You are needed in our land, and do not fear, you will not be alone. There is another, find him and don't die."_ The last thing he saw was his sword and grandfather clock, before he blacked out from the pain.

If someone had walked in at this point, they would have seen that Kris was on fire, and probably freaked out. They then would have been blinded by a multicolored light that seemed to be emanating from the flames.

When Kris came around, the first thing he noticed was his eyesight was much better, despite having the blues, greens, and reds dulled, and the greys highlighted. The next thing Kris noticed was he could see his nose, which was covered with... scales! He started to freak out. Getting up, he looked at his body, which was also covered in scales, which were gray, except around his wings, where they were reddish. He had a tail and four legs. After he calmed down, Kris began think about what he was.

_"Well, I could be a..., how could I be so stupid, I am a dragon. That leaves me with a problem; how do I fucking move!" _As if he had said the magic words, memories that weren't his own showed themselves to him, telling him all he needed to know about his new body. They explained everything from moving to breathing fire. They also showed him something he didn't want to know, mating. _"Heh, like there is a female dragon here. Wait, where _is _here?" _he thought worriedly.

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_Meanwhile in California..._

Night had fallen across the land. The pale moonlight lit up the darkness below with a faint white illumination. To the residents of the small town below, it was a night like any other. As such, all of them were asleep. All but one, that is.

A young man named David lay in his bed, his eyes looking intently at the iPod Touch grasped in his hand.

_Just this one more chapter and then I'll go to sleep and start reading again tomorrow morning,_ he thought to himself. Two more chapters came and went, and still he did not sleep. But this was a normal night for David.

David was an avid reader of fanfiction. He had even gone so far as to write a few stories of his own, and a few of them were pretty popular. No one suspected that he stayed awake until around midnight reading, mainly because he could easily maintain his body and brain on few hours of sleep. He averaged around six hours of sleep a night. Sometimes he would write some of the next chapter of his story, sometimes he would just read stories, and sometimes he would just find pictures of dragons. He was a fan of dragons. In fact, the speech presentation coming up was an explanatory speech, and he would be doing it on dragons. But despite all of his love of dragons, none of the Inheritance Cycle dragons were his favorite characters in the book series. That position belonged to Solembum. Each time that the werecat showed up, something interesting occurred shortly after.

_Just one more chapter, _he told himself, knowing that when the time came, he would just read another chapter after that one... and another... probably stopping around one o'clock in the morning. Suddenly a flare of light shone through the gap in the curtains that obscured his window. _What the heck?_he thought to himself. He hopped out of bed, grabbed his glasses off of his bedside table, and snuck out of the door to his room and into the hall. He looked to his right, checking to see that his parents were still asleep. The only noises coming out of their room was the loud snore of his father.

As David turned towards the front door, the door that led to the street, an ethereal mist-like cloud began billowing into the corridor as if out of nowhere. _Is there a fire or something? _he wondered, putting his hand on the knob. He didn't have a moment to continue this thought as he was suddenly hurled backwards as the door was flung open with a bang. How such a loud noise didn't wake up his brother or his parents, David didn't know.

David shook his head to clear away the throbbing pain that came from his head's collision with the wall that he now lay slumped against. He managed to stagger to his feet in time to see a nexus of light drift into the doorway. Vines of a strange plant curled around the wooden door frame.

From the sphere of light coalesced a figure of a large cat that was composed entirely out of that same light. As the cat calmly slunk down the hall towards him, its brilliantly blue eyes bore into David's hazel ones, freezing him in place with the piercing stare. Vines followed the light-cat up the hall, making the corridor look like some sort of jungle scene as they covered the walls.

The luminous feline halted in front of David, whose legs had given out while the "cat" had been coming towards him. It set a glowing paw upon his leg, and a new swarm of vines swept over his now immobile form. They wrapped around him, entwining over and under his body in an almost mummy-esque fashion. He managed to regain control of his tongue at this point.

"Who _are _you?" he breathed, his voice filled with awe. Any other questions that he might have had in mind to ask were smothered by a group of vines that covered his mouth.

_I am the Warden, _said an ancient-sounding voice that rang in his head with the echoes of the ages. _Your wisdom is needed, but do not worry. You will not be alone in your quest. Another is also being called. Find him, guide him, and stay alive._

The air around them crackled with energy. David suddenly began convulsing in agony as his body contorted into unnatural shapes. His teeth lengthened and sharpened into fangs, blue-black fur sprouted up all over his body, overpowering his previously brown hair. His limbs snapped into new shapes and positions, growing into their new places. His torso thinned out and his shoulders receded into his now slimmer body. David's head was the last to change. It rounded out and his nose elongated into a short snout. Small feline ears sprouted from his scalp, taking the positions usually seen on cats.

The vines withdrew, but the light-cat remained. David was now almost and exact clone of the apparition, apart from the fact that he had dark gray fur, a blue-black mane, and brilliantly green eyes punctuated with black-slitted irises, which were now open and watering in pain.

_The pain will pass, young one, but now we must depart for Alagaësia._ The vines around the hall began to shed their leaves as their stems withered. These leaves spun around, swirling into a whirlwind of green that encompassed the Warden and David's new form, and then they were gone. No sign of the Warden's presence remained other than a single leaf spiraling to the ground.

* * *

David instinctively yelped as he tumbled to the ground, rolling to a stop against a tree in an unfamiliar moonlit forest. His eyes opened in time to see the last of the swirling leaves drift to a stop upon the ground. The Warden was nowhere to be seen, and David had no idea where he was or what had just happened. His whole body ached from the transformation that had been forced on him.

He turned his head to examine his new body. It was feline, that much was certain, but it was larger than most cats, almost three-quarters the size of an adult lion. He bore a dark mane of blue-black fur, part of which curled past his pointed ears, hanging past his face. Something whipped around behind him, and he looked to find his tail sliding around on the ground. _This is strange, _he thought.

He looked at his surroundings. David could see that he was in a forest of some kind, but it possessed plant life that he had not previously seen in his wilderness wanderings with his father. Trees stretched out in all directions, two mountain peaks towering towards the sky jutted out from the forest a mile or so to the west. No sign of civilization was visible. David shakily raised himself up onto all-fours, only to collapse again as a wave of weariness engulfed his being. As he blacked out, he failed to notice the eyes watching from the shadows, and the owner of those eyes making their way nearer and nearer to him.

A small hand was placed upon his brow, and his whole body tensed up as a foreign consciousness probed his own.

David suddenly found himself floating in a vast empty expanse. He swiveled his feline head around in panic. The pain that had engulfed him was now mysteriously gone. _Where am I? _he wondered.

Colors began to resolve out of the blackness. He found himself on a rocky cliff's edge. A colorful sunset's light cast a beautiful hue over the landscape spread out before him and his position high up on the cliff. Forests of green were tinted with oranges and reds, a lake in the distance gleamed with the glorious light, a flock of birds fluttered up from the forest, winging towards distant mountains.

"It's quite breathtaking, isn't it?" said a voice to his right. David jumped in surprise and whirled to face the voice's owner. A girl was gazing at the valley below as she neared him. Well, perhaps 'girl' wasn't the right term. The girl's face bore an unnatural maturity, as did her tiny form. Eyes the color of a storm-tossed sea looked at him as she brought her gaze away from the landscape. "You should consider yourself lucky for having an inner world such as this." She tossed her dirty blonde hair out of her eyes, "Mine is a wave-lashed boulder in the middle of an ocean, surrounded by a rainstorm, and I _hate_ water." She let slip a small grin, which David returned as much as he could with his feline mouth.

_Indeed, it is a good view, but where am I? _he asked the girl. She walked past him to sit on the cliff's edge, dangling her tiny feet over the vast distance to the ground below.

"Your body is currently laying unconscious near the eastern slope of the _Erudes abr Wyrda, _or "The Peaks of Fate". The peaks themselves rest about twenty miles west of the elven city of Osilon, which itself is concealed within the grand forest of Du Weldenvarden." she replied, looking over her shoulder at him.

He took a few awkward steps back, stumbled a little due to his lack of familiarity with his new limbs, _You mean I'm in Alagaësia? _he asked in amazement. He had known that he definitely wasn't on earth anymore, but to end up in the world of his favorite book series... was simply too much.

"Of course, young one. I felt something strange from this direction, so I departed from Ellesmera to find the source. Glaedr wanted to come along because he felt it, too, but he could not make it beneath the trees."

_So you know Glaedr. Who exactly are you?_

"Some call me Quickpaw; some, like you, might call me the Dream Dancer, but you may call me Maud." Her form rippled and the girl's body blurred around the edges and shifted into a feline form very similar to David's own, but with light brown fur. _Maud the Werecat, _she finished. She began to slink away without another word.

_Wait, where are you going? What do I do? _David asked. He didn't want to be left alone, especially not as helpless as he was.

She turned her head back to look at him. _Sleep, recover your strength. I will return in the morning._

David's head spun with a weariness that definitely had not been there before. Maud, the valley, and the cliffs all faded into darkness as David drifted into slumber.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Commentaholic: Well, that's my part finished, for the most part. We both participated in this chapter, writing our own introductions. Kris was Dragonrider101, and David was my own. Let us know what you think! Any other thoughts, Dragonrider?**

**Dragonrider101: Yes, We should let the readers know that we left Earth at twelve at night so that they get a better idea.**

**Commentaholic: Twelve midnight? Isn't that a little cliche? Yeah, sure. Midnight. And the time zones of both worlds are essentially the same, so we ended up in Alagaësia at almost exactly the same time.**** In response, oh mysterious anonymous reviewer... NO. It would just be lame if our people had guns, even if they could use them now, as you just found out. **

**We're also planning to have weekly updates every Friday, but don't hit us up with messages if we miss it until a full week later. Realize that we have lives, and those lives must go first before Fanfiction.**

**A special mention to those of you who can, without looking it up, estimate what the phrases in the ancient language near the beginning meant. I realize that I can't possibly know for sure, but I trust that my loyal reviewers will be honest.**

**Read and Review!**

**╝Commentaholic and ****Dragonrider101╚**


	3. Chapter Two: Meet and Greet

**Of Werecats and Dragons**

By Commentaholic and Dragonrider101

**A/N: **

**Commentaholic: Well, I feel good about last chapter, even though it hasn't been put up yet. Of course, the story will only get harder from here, now that we've kind of set a standard of quality.**

**Dragonrider101: Yeah, and I would like to point out that right now our time to update this is severely limited.**

**Commentaholic: True, very true. As I said in the last chapter's ending A/N, Real Life takes priority. Oh, and for the competition from last chapter, Arty Thrip won for the closest "non-cheated" translation of the ancient language quotes. Well... she was the ONLY one who guessed, really... but whatever. If anyone else with a little more know-how had guessed, they probably would be mentioned instead of Arty. Full translation of the ancient language from last chapter will be at the end of this one so that people can look back to the previous one and say, "Ohhhh, that's what he meant!" *looks around* Oh, and we don't own the Inheritance Cycle, Christopher Paolini does. Any OCs belong to Dragonrider101 and I, as does the altered plot line.**

**Dragonrider101: Where's the angry male dragon? *looks around and gulps* Oh, never mind. *whistles***

**Commentaholic: . . . Great, now you jinxed it. *Is tackled by an angry male dragon and they tumble offscreen***

**Dragonrider101: Shoot, sorry! Here's the chapter.*goes off-screen to help Commentaholic***

* * *

**Chapter Two: **_Meet and Greet_

* * *

David awoke, stretching as he rose, looking around. _Dang_, he thought. He had almost expected that his adventures the previous night had been just a strange dream. But everything was still there: his feline body, the forest, the mountain looming to the west. He glanced about for Maud, who had said that she would be back in the morning, but though the sun was now peeking over the treetops, Maud was still absent.

He heard a twig snap behind him, and he spun about, expecting Maud to be walking towards him. To his surprise, nothing was there. _Maud?_ he asked, projecting his thoughts to the surrounding area, _Stop playing games, Maud_. He heard a rustle of leaves behind him, and he turned around once more, just in time to see a furry figure hurtle into him. He tumbled to the ground a short distance away, _What the heck was that_? he wondered, looking for the thing that hit him, which crouched a few feet away. A wolf, white fangs glistening with drool, circled the confused David, looking at him with a ravenous look in its eye. _Maud, HELP_! he mentally cried out, scrambling up onto his paws, attempting to back away from the ferocious animal that was menacingly advancing towards him. But Maud was nowhere to be seen. David scrambled backwards in a fumble of paws as the wolf leapt towards him, knocking David to the ground once more. In a moment, the wolf was upon the downed werecat, attempting to bite and tear at the confused newcomer's head.

A growl. A tearing of flesh. A yelp. Blood flowed.

David's vision was obscured by the blood that was now obscuring his now-closed right eye, a hideous slash of sundered flesh running from above the right eye and down to just above the top of the lower right jaw gushed blood in copious amounts. The wolf leapt away, three shallow scratches etched into its gut, a result of David's manic attempts to defend himself. The wolf growled again and began to dash towards the incapacitated feline that lay on its side, blood staining into its fur. David knew this was the end. There was no way he was getting out of this one. The wolf leapt up to crouch above him, rearing back to deliver the fatal rip at his throat to end his life.

A yell came from the side, and the wolf was struck broadside by a flying bundle of brown fur. Maud threw the wolf across the clearing with a strength that one would definitely not expect out of such a small animal. The wolf impacted on the trunk of a tree, slid to the ground, picked itself up, and whimpered as it fled, obviously not wanting to push its luck. It hadn't expected interference.

Maud crouched over David, growling at the wolf until it disappeared from sight, then shifted back to human form, bending to examine David's wounds. David had lost consciousness due to blood loss, and even with Maud's extensive magical knowledge, she was lucky to keep him alive, even if the wound did leave a scar. The scar ran where the wound had been, from above the right eye to the lower right jaw.

Maud kept watch over David, guarding her black-furred kin until late in the day, when he awoke. He began to instinctively stretch, but cried out as his still-recovering wounds caught up with him. "Be careful. I already healed you once today, and I don't relish having to do so again. It's always harder for our kind to heal each other." She helped him up onto his paws, holding him steady whenever he wobbled.

"Maud, I can never thank you enough, you know. If it means anything, I'm in your debt, and I hope to repay it one day."

Maud flashed a grin of slightly pointed white teeth, "Be careful, I might hold you to that." She looked up at the sun. "You'd better get started if you're going to make it to Carvahall in time."

"Carvahall... Don't tell me... The blue egg is about to hatch, right?"

Maud's eyes danced with humor. "And here I was thinking that I was the only prophetic werecat in Du Weldenvarden."

David realized he couldn't hide anything right now, except his true form, from present company. With the werecat abilities, "prophetic" abilities, no less, Maud likely knew more than he did about the events to come.

"So," David began, "Which way to Carvahall?"

* * *

Kris began to explore around to find out where he was, which really was simple considering he could fly now. Kris flew up as high as he could while still being able to see the ground. What he saw, though, reminded him of a map in a book he once read. _What was the name of that book_? Kris thought to himself,_ Wait, there's no way that I am in Alagaësia! _He fainted, falling a several hundred feet, and was about to crash into the land when the wind rushing past his head woke him, just in time to barely pull out of his dive in time to prevent a direct impact, though he did not entirely escape harm. He crashed into the rocky ground, skidding several feet before stopping and falling into blissful unconsciousness, left wing at an odd angle, and a few scales scraped loose from his hind legs, the exposed skin underneath oozing small droplets of blood.

When Kris came around, he noticed that he was in a alot of pain, and therefore probably had broken bones. The problem is he didn't know what was broken. Kris soon discovered that he had a broken left wing, for that wing was all mangled. He hoped that he could put it back in place by moving certain muscles. That proved to be too painful to do, each effort ending in debilitating pain, causing him to curl up on the ground in agony. He got up shakily and went towards the only place he could think of, Carvahall. He made his way as best he could towards the direction he remembered Carvahall being, having had the brief chance to get his bearings earlier, even though that chance had ended painfully. As he made his way along, taking care not to get his injured wing snagged on any fallen branches as it trailed alongside him, he suddenly felt a strange sensation in the back of his head, strangely familiar, almost as if a finger was prodding him. He calmed his thoughts, which he had learned to do from years of counseling, and looked into his mind. What Kris found was shocking to him. A bright grey light was shining and he wanted to touch it for some reason, but every time Kris would get close, it would move away quickly with a flash of blue. He finally decided he could not catch it, and it would give itself up when it decided to.

He returned to his body and looked around and saw that night had fallen during his mental excursion. He didn't stop to fall into blissful sleep however, he knew that was dangerous to do. As a precaution, he would continuously twitch his wing to stay awake, much to his own discomfort, but it beat falling victim to the dangers of the wilderness. _I wonder what that light was, _he thought, as he lay there,_ Maybe that was something I could use to heal my wing. Whatever it was, it wasn't in those 'memories' that showed themselves to me before. Maybe it's ... No, that's stupid. What the heck was that light in my head?_

As he pondered this, he looked up from the ground, something he had made a habit of on Earth, and saw a familiar scene. A hunter with brown eyes and hair, bearing a large blue egg walking down the mountain towards a village at the base of the mountain range. A_nd where did I see this from before, the Inheritance 'Books'. _Kris thought again, chuckling to himself. Kris would never have thought he would be placed into his favourite series. Then again he expected the unexpected, due to his life being full of unexpected events.

As he followed the person that could only be Eragon, Kris noticed that he was nearing the village, so he stopped and went back up into the mountains again to sleep, deeming it safe to do so once he had found a cave high up on a hill, long abandoned. When he got there, he accidentally snagged his limp wing on a partially sharp rock on the ground. As the wing stopped and Kris continued forward, the wing got yanked. Hard. He heard his left wing go _crack_, and he felt pain rush though all of his wing's nerves. He fell to the hard, nearly frozen ground, whimpering. He looked at his wing and noticed that it was mostly in place.

_Well, that's taken care of, _Kris thought sourly, _now I just have to wait for something to happen, or I could try to find Brom. _The last idea seemed to be slightly better, he desperately needed to talk to someone. That, and he wasn't very good at waiting. Kris ran into a problem though, he didn't know how to search with his mind and didn't know what to feel for to find Brom's mind._ Well that's out of the equation then. _He rose, heading deeper into the cave, and settled in for the night.

* * *

The moon stood out clearly against the dark sky above, its pale light shining down on the world below, casting an eerie illumination on the usually tranquil forest.

But none of this strange beauty affected David, whose paws tiredly padded forward. He'd been traveling since the previous night, Maud not letting him wait until morning. He hadn't really had any trouble until that darn river. David had to follow the river for 20 miles until he found a half-rotted wooden bridge spanning the river. Obviously unused, David carefully made his way across, following the ensuing less-traveled road that it met up with, heading west towards Carvahall, or at least, where he remembered Carvahall to be. His bandage itched fiercely, but he refrained from messing with it. His eyes, or eye, as it was the case, the other eye being bandaged up, grew blurry, and faded to black.

...

David woke with a start. _Wait, how'd I get here? _He looked around at the cave he found himself in. Trying to remember the previous night, he vaguely remembered going up a hill... but not much else. He rose, stretching, his tail twitching out behind him. He froze as something behind him expelled a massive amount of air and an earful of noise. Almost like a... sneeze? David spun about to see a gray-scaled dragon looking back at him. He yowled in terror and tried to run, but a massive claw cut off his escape.

_And just who the heck are you?_ the dragon asked, bringing its neck around to look at David more closely. David quivered against the scaled arm, edging as far from the dragon's mouth as possible. Then something caught his attention. This dragon didn't sound like the other ones from the book. This one sounded almost... human. Remembering the customary werecat introduction, he grinned, sharp white teeth gleaming in the light streaming through the cave's entrance. He realized that, if this dragon was hostile, his best chance was to assume the usual werecat light-hearted attitude. Werecats were often granted safe passage through any territory, be it belonging to dragon, man, elf, or dwarf.

_Some call me Sharpclaw, others call me Darkmane, but you can call me Dave, _he said, _David, actually. And you are?_

The dragon, if it was surprised at David's name, didn't show it. It looked thoughtful, then, _Mor'ranr._

David decided to make the big play. If he was right, this would prove it.

_Your Earth name, I mean. I gave you mine, now it's your turn._ He had a hunch that this dragon was his counterpart that the Warden had mentioned.

NOW he had the dragon's attention. Its bluish-gray eyes widened, and it snorted in surprise. _Kris._

David smiled again. Now they were getting somewhere.

The dragon spoke again, _How do I know you're telling the truth?_

_Well, besides the fact that I know about Earth? Hmm... I am from earth, Vel eïnradhin iet ai Veyrgott. On my word as a Werecat._

The dragon seemed slightly reassured, even if he didn't know exactly what it meant, the Ancient Language compelled him to understand that David was telling the truth.

_So, Kris, seen anything interesting lately?_ David asked, leaping over the claw that had previously blocked his escape, walking towards the cave's entrance. _A blue egg in particular?_

_Yeah, Eragon carried it into town last night. I came up here to sleep, telling myself I'd try to find Brom in the morning, _the dragon replied, joining him at the opening, gazing down towards Carvahall and the valley it lay in. Kris lay down next to where David sat, looking sideways at the werecat. _But I get the feeling that it won't be as simple as it was the first time. There's a reason we're here, isn't there. _

David absentmindedly nodded, thinking back to the Warden's words. _Yes. From what I was told, he'll need our help. _He looked down, thinking hard about the Warden's words. Perhaps he'd missed something. _Either way, we still have to wait until Saphira hatches. I suggest we remain hidden as much as possible until it becomes necessary for us to intercede._

After a while, David rose, stretching. He began heading down the mountain. Kris began to rise to follow him, asking, _Where are you going?_

David looked back, _Into town for some scouting. Of the two of us, I believe that a Werecat is a lot less likely to be noticed than a dragon, wouldn't you agree? _Kris couldn't really argue with that, and sank back down onto his scaly belly. He got the feeling that the next few days would be very boring. David disappeared into the forest at the foot of the mountain.

At the edge of Carvahall, David decided to remove his bandage. A werecat's physical proportions would be noticeable enough, even without a bandage. He carefully eased it off with a claw as he examined his efforts in his reflection within a small puddle. Once he had it off, he was relieved to find that the wound had healed incredibly fast over the last two days. _Hmm... werecats must heal faster than normal beings._ All that remained from his injury was the pale scar.

As he made his way into the village, he tried to keep off of the main street as much as possible. From what he remembered, Garrow's home was outside of town about two hours' walk north.

David peered north from under the porch he had taken shelter under. The north road seemed empty, as expected. Most of Carvahall's residents chose to remain in town unless work was readily available, and since it was winter, the harvest was still very far away. David bunched up his muscles, ready to sprint into the open. As he leapt, time seemed to slow down, he saw the dark opening of a sack drop down in front of him. He tried to tumble to escape, but was still airborne. David flew into the burlap sack, which was bunched closed behind him.

Through the thick burlap material, David could hear a voice say, "Jackpot! Hey Vargil, get over here with that rope. I can't hold this thing forever!" He heard a shouted reply and the sound of footsteps coming closer.

He was trapped.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Commentaholic: Well, that's the chapter. Brief? Yes. But hopefully it's a good quality story. Took us ages, mainly my fault, but I hope I made up for it. Since dragonrider seems to be sleeping on the job, I'll just wrap this up now. This is my second updating day in a row!**

**The translation for last chapter's Ancient Language ritual was:**

_**"The stars watch over you Fal'kiv'eurr"**_

_**"Dominance of Fal'kiv'eurr"**_

_**"Warden of the Sun, bring forth the young men of promise from beyond the stars."**_

**P.S. Whoever knows where I got the name Vargil gets like a million points. To know, one would probably have to be in the gamer clan, the Warriors of Æsir, more specifically the Starcraft Brood Wars branch.**

**╝Commentaholic and ****Dragonrider101╚**


	4. Chapter Three: Double the Trouble

**Of Werecats and Dragons**

By Commentaholic and Dragonrider101

**A/N: **

**Commentaholic: Well, yet another chapter has come and gone, eh? Now that both of our characters have met up, things are going to get interesting fast! At least, that's my opinion.**

**Dragonrider101: And I would have to agree with you. Things are bound to happen with both a werecat and a dragon around. *looks around* Why is the random male dragon humming contently? *looks closer* OH, that's why. To the readers: Du haben ein gut lesen!**

**Commentaholic: Well, I don't know any German... so I'll just leave you with this. We don't own the Inheritance Cycle. Christopher Paolini does. We only own our respective characters and the havoc they wreak on the plot line. *Peers over at random male dragon* What is it?**

**Dragonrider101: He is cuddling with baby Saphira. On with the story!**

**Commentaholic: I'd just like to mention that lines mean changes in POV  
**

* * *

**Chapter Three**: Double the Trouble...

* * *

David scrambled about in the bag, trying to free himself by utilizing his sharp claws, but the burlap was strong and well-made, and his still-new claws, pointy as they were, could not pierce the rough cloth. David could glimpse specks of light through miniscule holes in the bag, catching glimpses of blue sky, and occasionally a scarred arm belonging to the bag's holder. He could hear "Vargil" and his friend celebrating above him.

David was surprised. He hadn't expected anyone in this small town, other than Brom of course, to recognize a werecat. The sack heaved as they lifted it off of the ground once more, carrying it to gods-knew-where. The pair joked as they went, speculating as to what they'd get in reward from Galbatorix. It wasn't often that a werecat was caught, especially since The Fall. Rumor had it that the King desired to study them, to learn their secrets, mainly their prophetic abilities.

The two men appeared to have reached their destination, as the sack surged forward slightly before returning to its hanging position, indicating a halt of their movement. David heard a wooden door creak open before the sack was hurled into what David assumed to be a shed, as the ground was obviously not wooden flooring, and even more obviously: damp. The bag hit the back wall before dropping to the ground. The sparse amount of light David had been enjoying vanished as the door to the outside world slammed shut. The sound of a bolt being drawn across the entrance indicated that they were more worried about him getting out than someone else getting into the shed.

David didn't know how long he lay in there, cramped up inside the constricting sack. It felt like days, though David knew better. They would have fed him. He was much more valuable alive than dead, despite Galbatorix's near-miraculous ways of acquiring information. He knew it was likely futile, especially with his inexperience with his new form, but he would attempt to escape next time the bag opened.

After a while, the symphony of the night rang in his ears. With his enhanced hearing, he could hear crickets chirping in the forest and owls hooting as they swooped overhead. David's eyes gradually drifted shut, falling asleep amid the noise of the nocturnal realm.

He was brought to a rude awakening the next time his eyes opened.

* * *

Kris woke up from a nap he didn't remember falling into around midday. He was hoping that the werecat, David, would be back soon. He looked around the surprisingly large cave, only to find out that his newly acquired partner was nowhere to be found. _Must have found something or gotten into trouble_, Kris thought to himself, not knowing that his thoughts weren't that far off.

He waited five minutes before he started to feel hungry. He started out of the cave, grateful for the memories that he had on his first day in Alagaësia. He quickly caught the scent of a herd of deer and followed it; his wandering mind had now ceased its meandering ways. He found the deer in a beautiful clearing with a stream flowing though it and a single tree in the middle of it. Kris was mesmerized for a couple of seconds, but was jolted out of his dazed state when the wind blew the deer's scent into his nostrils. His mind quickly snapped into a single-minded attitude, allowing his instincts to surface. Kris stealthily approached the herd, just getting within pouncing distance, waiting for the right moment. A doe separated itself from the rest of the herd, and something twitched in his mind, signalling that now was that moment. He sprung onto the doe's back, reaching for the neck and clamping down on it, then twisting his head, snapping the doe's spine, effectively ending its life.

Kris looked down on his kill, suddenly feeling all the more hungry after his efforts. He dived into his kill, surprised that blood tasted so good. He finished almost as soon as he had started, with blood smeared all over the scales around his mouth. Kris went to the stream and cleaned his face of all the delicious blood he had been about to settle in for a nap when he heard something a little ways off that sounded like whimpering.

Curious, he followed the sound to a clearing with a rowan tree in the middle, with a little, blue Saphira, he knew that it was her from the smell, tied to the tree, desperately jumping to try to catch a dove. Kris chuckled at the sight, making the dragoness look at him with wide eyes and a tilted head, easily conveying hunger, along with the curiosity at his arrival. He decided he would catch, or more likely burn, the dove for Saphira, but then he decided to catch it to show her how to do the same, thinking it more prudent for her to learn how to do it for herself.

Kris lowered himself to the ground, like a cat, a very big scaly cat, and made a small jump towards the dove, landing way short of his target on purpose. He looked at Saphira, noticing her copying his actions, catch the dove and tear into the bird like he had with the doe not ten minutes before.

_Good job, Saphir... I mean, little one_. He said to her, hoping his slip-up wouldn't have too much of an effect on the little dragoness. Young ones were always so impressionable these days.

* * *

Unfortunately, when it came time for Vargil and his accomplice to feed David, they were smarter than he had first thought. Before opening the bag, they dunked it in a cold river, waking David from his fitful slumber. The sheer feeling of the frigid water on his small body brought his feline instincts to the forefront of his mind. He cowered from the water that cats commonly fear, cats being unable to swim in it. Once he had curled up into a ball in an attempt to escape from the cold, the two men opened the bag quickly, throwing a little bit of meat into the sack, and quickly closed it again, plunging David into darkness once more.

Once David managed to force his body to uncurl from its furry ball, he sniffed at the paltry meal they'd brought him. It was a small slab of liver, slightly rancid from the smell of it. But food was food, and he wasn't likely to even be capable of an escape plan on an empty stomach. The liver was disgusting as it slid sickeningly down his throat, but he endured it, ever hoping for a chance at escape, or even a rescue, however unlikely it would be for one to occur.

The bag was once again thrown into the shed, and David settled in once more for the monotonous waiting that had become a result of his situation.

He heard Vargil and his friend arguing outside. His ears, despite being muffled by both the burlap sack and the wooden door, managed to hear that they were debating whether to trust an agent of the Empire to come and get the werecat, or if they should go to Uru'baen themselves. Vargil didn't trust an agent of the empire to give them their due reward, but his friend didn't want to risk traveling with such valuable cargo.

The argument went on for a little while before a third voice entered the conversation. "Vargil, Skoll, what's going on here?" asked an elderly voice.

"None of your business, old man." Vargil said angrily, still frustrated with his friend's stubborn attitude.

"I think it is my business when I find someone arguing in front of a shed on MY property!" replied the old man, "I never gave you permission to build this. Horst wouldn't be too happy to find his nephew breaking the law of Carvahall, would he?"

There came the sound of a knife being drawn, "You'll stay silent if you know what's good for you, Brom."

_Brom!_ David exclaimed mentally, surely he couldn't be this lucky. He turned his green eyes to where he thought "up" was and gave a quick word of thanks to whatever gods might exist in this realm. Brom was just the kind of person to help him get out of this mess. He felt a tendril of thought brush against his own mind, followed by a feeling of surprise.

* * *

Brom covered up his look of shock with a cough. He brought his fist up to cover his mouth as he considered what he had sensed within the shed. He hadn't got a good enough sense of what was there, but the fact that it could communicate mentally was reason enough to get involved.

He raised his eyes to look at Vargil and Skoll once more. "I'll only warn you once, 'children'. Leave, before I am forced to do something that you'll regret."

Skoll and Vargil looked at each other, smirking. Vargil began stepping forward, brandishing the small knife.

* * *

After Brom's words, David could only hear the sound of a small scuffle. He heard one of the two kidnappers moan and fall to the ground. The other yelled in anger and surprise before he flew into the door to the shed. The door, along with the weight of Skoll, landed on David, their combined weights almost crushing him. He yelped in agony, trying in vain to push the heavy mass off of him.

To his relief, a few moments later, the door and the malicious youth were pushed off of David, and he heard Brom's fingers fumbling at the sack's binding ropes. David pushed out of the mouth of the sack as soon as the ropes were loose enough, inhaling deeply the fresh air of freedom. He lay gasping on the ground for a few moments before he noticed Brom staring at him with intensity. _My thanks, Brom_, David said as he stretched. Captivity had given him many stiff joints.

If anything, this small phrase of gratitude surprised Brom even more, if it was at all possible to be more surprised. David watched as Brom stood, brushing off his dark brown robe. "It was my pleasure, werecat. Now, may I ask why one of your kind deigns to visit our humble village?"

David considered this for a moment. _My apologies, Brom, but I cannot answer your question. Surely you must understand secrecy. After all, you have hidden away all these years without being discovered._ David peeked outside the shed, looking to see if this confrontation had been witnessed. If it had, the person surely would not have left without an explanation. Nobody was visible, so it was relatively safe to assume that they were safe, if only for the moment.

David looked back at Brom, who seemed to be debating with himself whether to let David leave or to restrain David until his question was answered. _Peace, Brom. All will be answered in time. In time, you will see. When that which was lost is found, the thing that was deep blue and round. The dead will rise and you'll see with your eyes a new friendly rider in the skies_.

With that, David departed from Brom's presence, disappearing into the forest. As much as he hated being cryptic, it was expected of werecats. Besides, he couldn't have Brom trying to interrogate him.

It took him half the day to get back around the village and up into the foothills of the Spine. He found the cave where he and Kris had slept, but the dragon was nowhere to be found. He hissed in frustration. He had told Kris to stay put! David looked down the mountain from the ledge next to the cave's entrance. The dragon didn't show up, and after an hour or so, David gave up and went inside to sleep.

* * *

He was woken by a voice in his head: _Where have you been_?

He opened his eyes to find Kris looking down at him. Behind the dragon, the orange-tinged sky of sunset was visible through the cave's entrance. David stood and stretched.

_For your information, I was captured by two disagreeable young men seeking a quick profit_, David explained, subconsciously grooming himself. _It is only by the timely intervention of our good friend Brom that I am free_.

Kris snorted in surprise, a trickle of smoke rising from his nostrils. _Brom saw you? What happened to staying secret_?

David's tongue stopped in mid-lick and his eyes flashed angrily. _Oh please, like I had a choice in the matter, _he hissed.

Kris's eyes softened and he sank down onto his belly. _My apologies. It merely took me by surprise_.

_Apology accepted_.

They sat there for a while, no words exchanged until David finished his grooming.

_So_, David began, _what did you do while I was gone, anyway_?

_Well…_

* * *

_YOU DID WHAT?_ David yelled, his mental shout making Kris's head hurt.

_Calm down_, Kris pleaded.

_You're telling ME to calm down? Sure, I had a run-in with Brom, but YOU!_ David began pacing back and forth. Kris looked on, a little scared. After all, he had to live with this guy. _YOU WENT TO SEE SAPHIRA_!

_She was hungry. What was I supposed to do_? Kris blurted out.

_Let her learn! How do we know that she won't tell Eragon about us_? David's eyes seemed to bore a hole through Kris's forehead.

_Oh…_ Kris murmured, _I hadn't thought of that_…

_Of COURSE you didn't! And, pray tell, what WERE you thinking_?

Kris really didn't have an excuse. He had just reacted. When he had seen Saphira's hungry look, he'd been compelled to help the young hatchling. _I don't know…_

David let out a mental sigh. _Well, the fat's really in the fire now… All we really can do now is hope for some damage control… that, and we can hope that Saphira can keep a secret. Maybe you should go visit her tomorrow and try to convey to her that you don't want to be discovered_.

_Why don't we just stay hidden? Maybe she'll forget_! Kris begged, hoping to avoid another awkward situation.

_Do you honestly think Saphira will forget another dragon? No, our best bet is to convince her to stay quiet. After that, we can lay low and observe until it's time for them to leave on the adventure_.

The next day, David watched as Kris soared low over the treetops northward, heading towards the forest outside Garrow's farm. He only hoped that they could salvage this…

* * *

Kris knew that he would have to steel himself for the coming event. It would be hard to convince Saphira that she would both have to hide Kris's existence from Eragon _and_ have to go without seeing Kris for a while.

When Kris arrived at the rowan tree, Saphira hopped down out of the small shelter to meet him, tail wiggling joyfully. Her eyes almost shone, and Kris's resolve crumbled under that innocent gaze. She ran forward awkwardly on her claws and nuzzled his leg.

Kris and Saphira sat together for a while as Kris lost track of time. It was only the sound of a human heading their way that stirred him out of his blissful calm. He assumed it was Eragon, as he was the only one who knew of Saphira's existence at that time. Kris rose quickly to his claws and darted into the forest, stopping only once to look back at Saphira before he disappeared into the trees.

After yet another session of David yelling at him, Kris managed to get a few words in edgewise between David's ranting expletives. _I know that she won't reveal our secret, I just know it_.

_I hope you're right, Kris. By the gods, I hope you're right, _David mused.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Commentaholic: Well, it seems to be going well, eh? Well, except for our two adventurers... They seem to be making mistakes and having bad luck at every turn! By the way, David turned 19 on April 4th, but he didn't get to celebrate it in Alagaësia, so I hope you all make him feel appreciated. BTW, even more points for whoever can now guess where I got the names Skoll and Vargil. Anyone who knows me... it should now be obvious.**

**Read and Review!**

**┬Commentaholic and Dragonrider101┬**


	5. Chapter Four:Memories, Trust, Alter Egos

**Of Werecats and Dragons**

By Commentaholic and Dragonrider101

**Dragonrider101: Well here's the new chapter. Commentaholic, do you think this story would make the top 50 IC stories? **

**Commentaholic: Well... To be honest? No. In the long time this genre's been around, there have been amazing stories and authors that have came and went. I don't even think my Alagaësia's New Dragon made it in that top 50 list.**

**Dragonrider101: I thought so... anyway to the readers: the last chapter's backstage, where I said _Du haben ein gut lesen_ it means _You have a good read_ in German. Commentaholic, have you ever wondered why that male dragon was mad?'**

**Commentaholic: Maybe because you're holding a steak and you're not giving it to him?**

**Dragonrider101: *looks at aforementioned steak* No that is cooked, I don't think he likes cooked steak. Hey look, the director of _Eragon_ the movie, let's get him. *runs towards aforementioned director, throwing stones at the director***

**Commentaholic: On a side note, I don't mean that this story could NEVER make it up to the top 50... I'm just saying that it isn't in there yet. Now, on with the story! *grabs a large rock and follows Dragonrider101***

* * *

**Chapter Four: **_Memories, Trust and Alter Egos._

* * *

Three months had passed, Kris was going back and forth between Saphira, teaching her stuff, like flying when she was old enough, much to David's angry protests, even though Kris had managed to get the little sapphire dragoness to swear in the Ancient Language, with the help of David's knowledge, not to reveal knowledge of Kris or David to anyone without their express permission and not to visit him, along with the location of the cave. David was hanging out with Brom more and more, somehow achieving a respectable amount of trust, all the while not revealing anything he couldn't, or wouldn't, tell about Kris or himself.

Saphira grew as the months passed. Her head now reached Kris' chest, and her wings were now capable of sustaining flight with a rider on her back, not that Eragon was willing to try.

Kris was currently sitting in the cave, trying to remember something by searching his mind. He'd been having the nagging sensation of something squirming around in his memories. It had become rather annoying, and he had finally sat himself down to search out the irritating feeling when he heard an angry roar of a bear in the distance, which distracted him for a few moments. Ignoring it, Kris continued his mind searching, only interrupted by the occasional flicker from the annoying lights in his head, which he now realized was what he had been searching for in the first place. Kris had almost skimmed over them without much interest when a cold shiver had stopped him dead.

_No... It can't be, I locked them up ages ago. They've never broken free before... not since..._ He shivered at the horrible memory of that day, but quickly surpressed it before he was forced to relive the entire event.

Kris stood up and stretched, then went to the cave mouth to hunt, eager to do something to take his mind off the disturbing images dancing on the edges of his memories. Soaring through the morning sky, he quickly located the herd of deer he had hunted from before. He swooped down and quickly snatched up a buck without touching the ground and then flew back to the cave with his catch. He landed softly as he could, having noticed that his were-cat companion was still sleeping, and quickly devoured his meal. Kris noisily scrambled up onto his claws when a flash appeared out of nowhere against the opposite wall of the cave, which was behind him, silhouetting his dragon form against the inner reaches of the cave. David's sleeping form was, thankfully, sheltered from the intense light by the shadow cast by Kris. He turned around and saw his home-made sword, (or machete, it hard to tell the difference with this one) looking more capable then before, but almost the same, along with a scabbard for it next to the sword.

_The "Bone Breaker"... How I long to wield it, _Kris looked over to David, _maybe he could use it when he's in human form, it looks to be the right size. I should wake him up to ask him about it. Or maybe I should... _Kris felt a mental scream of agony tear through the calm of his musings, originating from the valley below,_ Oh no, it can't be. _He got up and flew in the direction of Eragon's house, glad he has wings and a new body capable of scaring most beings into submission, and still be able to kill those who didn't surrender. As he neared the forested valley in which Eragon resided, Kris caught the expected scent of the Ra'zac, along with the scent of a very frightened Garrow.

The scent of blood and screams rusumed their chorus of agony, filling the air with the sound of a dying man, and Kris felt a familiar rage resurface. He quickly beat it into his subconscious and continued looking for the Ra'zac and (hopefully a still-living) Garrow, Eragon's uncle. He scanned the property once more, quickly finding the group he was looking for, having missed them on his first pass while they were inside the farmhouse. What he didn't expect to see was the Ra'zac about to slit Garrow's throat, though the man had fatal burns all over himself already. Knowing he couldn't swoop down in time to stop them, Kris did the only thing he could. He roared, it was a roar full of raging hate. Kris suddenly was thrown into a thoughtless rage, this time being incapable of halting his throbbing anger, and quickly dived to assault the two tormentors.

His wings beat furiously, accelerating him towards the ground and his prey. He pulled up at the last moment and landed heavily before them. Seeing the Ra'zac hiss with surprise, he reared back his head before spewing fire at them, but they leapt to the side to evade the scorching flames. The Ra'zac lightened their load by throwing Garrow into the building, managing to infuriate Kris even further, and pulling something out of their cloaks to throw at Kris. They then threw what looked like flasks at him, which he burnt to cinders before they could reach him, the liquid falling harmlessly onto the grass below, where it sizzled as the acidic contents spilled onto the ground. Kris pounced toward the hidious creatures but they dodged once more to the side, causing Kris's zealous leap of righteous anger towards the Ra'zac turn into a ballistic charge into the side of Eragon's home. Timbers snapped as the bulky form of a dragon broke through supports not designed to take his weight, causing most of the home to collapse in upon itself. Kris surged to his feet once more, shaking off pieces of timber and thatched roofing before narrowing his eyes at the Ra'zac.

The Ra'zac and Kris circled each other for a few moments before the Ra'zac threw yet another flask at him but Kris managed to dodge it by a narrow margin. The fragile container flew past Kris, impacting on the barn, where it shattered and an earth-shaking explosion followed as the broad side of the barn exploded into a huge fireball. Kris looked in horror at the destruction that both he and the Ra'zac had caused before turning his gaze back at the two abhorrent _things_ in front of him with enough hate to make even _King_ Galbatorix tremble with fear and, as expected, the Ra'zac fled, black cloaks billowing out behind them.

Kris watched them flee south down the road into town, chanced one last painful glance at the destroyed buildings, then flew back to the cave whimpering, huge tears falling from his eyes into the forest below. He certainly had a reason to. He didn't even notice that he had woken up David with his whimpering until the were-cat placed a tentative paw on Kris's foreleg.

_What happened?_

It was all Kris could do to be coherent as he related his tale.

* * *

_I see..._

Kris turned his head in frustration towards David, _"I see"? Is that all you can say? _he asked in disbelief. _I _destroyed_ his home!_

_And what makes you think that wasn't supposed to happen?_

Kris cocked his head in confusion. _What?_

David padded over to the ledge outside the cave, looking down into the valley before continuing. _Come with me. _The were-cat began down the path. Kris watched him for a few moments before following him, still confused. They prowled silently through the forest until Kris realized where they were going.

_No, I can't go back there._

_You need to see this, _David assured him. The were-cat indicated that he take a look through the trees.

There, out by the ruins of what once was Eragon's home, were Eragon and Saphira sifting through the wreckage.

They heard Eragon let out a strangled cry and knelt by Garrow, whom he had just exhumed from the shattered timbers with Saphira's help. In doing so, Saphira had destroyed the last few walls still standing after the battle.

_Now, think about it. Remember. _David said, turning back towards Kris. _Remember what happened before._

_Before... Oh!_ Kris thought. He looked back at the farm. _It was already like that when Eragon returned... so... It's not my fault! Well... it was, but it was ME who destroyed the house in the book. _Kris turned his wide-eyed gaze at David, _Freaky..._

_Indeed, _David confirmed, _Now let's get back to the cave. It is nearly time, and we must prepare for the long journey ahead._

They returned to the cave to gather their meager belongings. In fact, all they really had was "Bone Breaker", Kris's home-made blade, which was closer to a machete than a true sword, along with a few clothes that David had... _appropriated_ for his inevitable human transformation. The were-cat hadn't tried yet, as he hadn't had a need to do so. His feline form was much more suited for infiltrating Carvahall for his usual visits to Brom. Concealing oneself in shadows was easy with the dark fur granted to him by the powers that had sent him into the world of Alagaësia.

Not to mention the fact that afternoon naps in the sun were pure bliss, but maybe that was the cat in him talking.

Kris and David had decided a few weeks earlier to follow Eragon at a distance as long as they could manage it while remaining undetected. There was no need to influence the story more than they already had, or so David had insisted. Of course, despite today's events fitting into the framework of the story, David refused to immediately join Eragon's little traveling trio.

_It could cause unexpected repurcussions for which we may not be able to compensate. _He held up a paw, as if he knew that Kris was about to interrupt, _Yes, I know it worked out this time, but your impulsiveness can't exactly be relied on to choose the correct moments to make changes._

Kris exhaled at this, lowering his head to the floor. He'd been hoping to spend some more time with Saphira, which could only happen now if they joined the group. David set about rummaging through their things to get it all ready for the trip, his back to Kris.

Kris began sneaking towards the cave entrance as quietly as he could...

_Don't even think about it._

_Damn, _Kris muttered, sinking to the floor again.

The next few days passed without incident. Saphira took shelter in the cave with them while Eragon recovered from his injuries, as Kris did not want to leave her alone. David had grudgingly agreed, on the condition that Kris not hunt for her. She needed the experience and he would not have his friend coddling her. While the two dragons lounged in the hills outside of town, David made his way into town. He knew that he had one more thing to do before Eragon woke up tomorrow.

* * *

Brom cursed as the flint slipped from his fingers as he attempted to kindle the fireplace. His old fingers didn't listen to him anymore.

He leaned back as he finally managed to spark the tinder, the dry wood beginning to crackle merrily. Sighing, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the heat passing over him.

_Brom._

The old storyteller jerked upright at the unexpected voice. "Who's there?" He shouted, grasping for the long bundle he kept in the corner.

_Be still. It is I._

Brom relaxed, if only a little. It was just that were-cat again. He placed the bundle back against the wall where it had rested before, its wrapping slipping a little to reveal a stretch of ruby-red hilt before Brom pulled the cloth over it again. "What is it?" he asked, looking for and spotting the telltale flicker of the fire's reflection off of his visitor's eyes.

_Tomorrow they leave, they depart in the night. On the full moon's eve, the dragon takes flight._

Brom's eyes widened, then he began to scramble about his house, gathering up the things he would need. He was so focused that he didn't notice the door creaking open and David departing through it.

_The stage is set, _David murmured to himself as he crept towards the outskirts of town, _Now for the actors to take their places... then the show can begin._

* * *

**A/N:**

**Commentaholic: Well, that's that! The story is about to get interesting. I had to finish this thing on my own because Dragonrider101 just got a new dog! How exciting! Anyway, I hope his dog settles in alright and we can get back to work soon. Yeah, it was a little short, but it was more of a bridge with a hint of excitement thrown in.**

**Also, this is the first chapter submitted by my new laptop! Cya next time!**

**┬Commentaholic and Dragonrider101┬**


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